


Being the absolutely true story of how the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy blew up Ryan Atwood’s life (but don’t worry, it turns out ok in the end.)

by Fatima



Category: The OC
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Drama, Ethnic slurs, F/M, Gen, Non-Graphic Child Abuse, Non-graphic discussion of pregnancy loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-30 13:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatima/pseuds/Fatima
Summary: In which Sandy Cohen has a type.





	1. The Story Proper

**Author's Note:**

> “In an early draft of the series, Ryan Atwood was going to be Sandy Cohen's illegitimate child.”  
> —The O.C.: Trivia (IMDB) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0362359/trivia?ref_=tt_trv_trv, last accessed November 4, 2017
> 
> Oh, c’mon. Tell me that doesn’t make your brain make that needle/record scratch noise.

Five days before the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy blew up Ryan Atwood’s life, the young man in question was more than a bit confused.Not about why his mother’s boyfriend had just thrown him through the screen door and off the front porch.AJ had never really needed a reason for his casual cruelty, although he’d escalated a lot in the last few months.What confused Ryan was why, while throwing Ryan onto the lawn and slamming him onto his back on the half-dead grass, AJ was calling him a “goddamn kike.”

 

Ryan didn’t even know where the nearest synagogue was, forget ever having set foot inside one.As far as he knew, the closest his family came to organized religion — any organized religion — was when they’d moved into a house in which the previous tenant had nailed up a crucifix in the living room.Where AJ had gotten the idea the Atwoods were Jewish, he had no clue.He didn’t have much time to wonder though, since AJ, who had managed to skate through life mostly without consequences despite being the hat trick of stupid, mean, and lazy, had finally had his luck change, and Ryan had landed more or less directly in front of a police cruiser that was actually, it would later transpire, on its way to a noise complaint a block over.Chino’s finest had AJ in cuffs and spreadeagled across the hood before he was able to do more than reblacken Ryan’s eye.This meant Ryan was able to be absolutely truthful when he told his mother that evening that he hadn’t said a word to the cops beyond his name and relationship to AJ.He hadn’t had to. 

 

Four days before the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy blew up Ryan Atwood’s life, his mother took every scrap of money in the house and went to bail AJ out.She did not come back.Trey made Chef Boyardee raviolis for dinner and tried to tell Ryan it would be ok. 

 

Trey was actually not a very good liar.

 

Three days before the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy blew up Ryan Atwood’s life, the landlord pounded on their door, which is how Ryan and Trey found out they were two months behind on the rent.Both AJ and Dawn being MIA, they pleaded innocent children, and Ryan even worked up a decent set of puppy dog eyes.The landlord, a no-neck monster prone to setting the cars of people who annoyed him on fire, gave them 48 hours to come up with the cash.When Dawn still wasn’t back by dinner, Trey heated up more ravioli, said he had a plan, and went out.He did not come back.Ryan tried to tell himself it would be ok. 

 

Both the Atwood boys were really not very good liars.

 

Two days before the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy blew up Ryan Atwood’s life, Ryan was out of ravioli, and went next door to Teresa Díaz’s house.Mrs. Díaz fed him huevos rancheros and tortillas and told him he could bunk down in her son’s room.Ryan laid awake on Arturo’s floor, listening to his light snoring, and worried.Trey had probably done something stupid and was now in trouble, either with the cops or with people with way fewer rules, but Ryan had no idea what had happened to Dawn.She drank too much and made poor choices in men, but she’d always brought the alcohol and men home.She’d never just disappeared before.And his dad was in prison, and there was no one else.He just hoped she reemerged soon.Mrs. Díaz would never admit it, but since her husband had been deported, she was hardly in any better financial shape than the Atwoods were.He couldn’t eat their food forever.

 

The day before the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy blew up Ryan Atwood’s life, an obvious government car pulled in front of the Díaz house, disgorging an obvious social worker carrying the obvious Child and Family Services folders.Mrs. Díaz wasn’t home, so Teresa answered the door while Ryan hid, saying yes, she knew him, no he wasn’t there, yes, she’d seen him yesterday, yes she’d let him know Mrs. Johnson was looking for him. 

 

The day the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy blew up Ryan Atwood’s life, Mrs. Díaz was home and let the social worker in.

 

“You are Ryan Atwood, born Ryan Cohen?”The social worker had barely made eye contact with him so far, which Ryan was pretty sure he should find rude, but he was mostly finding her confusing.She seemed to expect him to know the first half of a story to which she was about to tell him the second half.

 

“Just Ryan Atwood.I’ve never had another name.”

 

Mrs. Johnson harrumphed.Ryan had never heard an actual harrumph before.“Are you aware that under California state law at the time of your birth the last name on your birth certificate had to be the name of the declared legal father?Since your father got a DNA test and signed the birth certificate, you are legally Ryan Cohen.”

 

“No,” Ryan protested.“I’ve seen my birth certificate.It says my father is Frank Atwood.”

 

“A clever forgery, according to the statement your mother gave us.”Mrs. Johnson flipped some more papers, looking for something.“Frank Atwood was incarcerated at Chuckawalla Valley State Prison starting 13 months before your birth,” her words slowing as she read the particulars off her file.“He did not have conjugal privileges.”

 

Teresa grabbed and squeezed his hand under the table.Mrs. Díaz, seated on his other side, went to put an arm over his shoulder, but stopped when he flinched.Ryan felt like someone had filled his veins with lead.“She lied?She’s been lying all this time?Why?Why would she do that?”

 

“A question for her.She’s been arraigned on an assault charge, and the DA is still deciding whether or not to levy any additional charges.I understand your father has been in touch with her.He might be able to tell you more when he get here.”

 

“Wait, what?He’s coming here? Why?”Ryan felt like the clocks had stopped.The blood rushing in his ears made it wound like she was speaking from far away.His father wasn’t Frank Atwood, career criminal.His father was… someone named Cohen? A deadbeat who had ignored him his entire life, was suddenly showing up out of nowhere.And this woman, who still wasn’t making eye contact, was just flipping through her papers, signing things that were blowing up his entire life and she hadn’t even seemed to notice. 

 

At his “why,” though, she finally looked up.“To take you home, of course.Your mother’s boyfriend is in jail, looking at serious time for felony assault against a minor, the booking sergeant, and two sheriff’s deputies at the Central Detention Center.Your mother tried to assault the court clerk who told her his bail had been denied.And your brother tried to evade arrest two nights ago in a stolen car.Yesterday, Sandy Cohen was awarded emergency custody, uncontested by your mother, by the way, by Judge Swift.Mrs. Atwood gave us a few locations where we were likely to find you, and I tried to bring you to the hearing, but someone,” she glowered at Teresa, “told me you weren’t here.I told Mr. Cohen I’d come ahead and find you while he was finishing up some paperwork.He should be here any moment to take you to your new home in Newport Beach.”So of course that was the exact moment the door bell rang.

 

By the time Ryan recollected his shattered self enough to be able to focus on the world outside his head, he was sitting in a diner, across from a man whose face bore absolutely no resemblance to his own, but who had apparently made some sperm once that had made him.Sperm donor…. he liked that language.That was an idea he could process.It wasn’t as scary as father.He hadn’t had much luck with the other father figures that had passed through his life to date.Sandy the Deadbeat Sperm Donor was a concept he could use.He’d just shrugged when StDSD had asked if he wanted lunch, which was more than enough to pull the fancy car, his bike sticking out of the trunk, into a diner, and here they sat, not quite making eye contact, and saying nothing. 

 

Sandy broke first.Ryan counted it as an victory.

 

“So… I’m sure you have questions.Why don’t I tell you what I know, or thought I knew, and we’ll go from there.” 

 

Ryan shrugged again, which again was taken as a yes, and Sandy started talking.Where Mrs. Johnson had been detached, professional, and more than a little cold, Sandy seemed to be holding back a deeper well of emotions.Ryan kind of resented the older man a little for that.Ryan’s was the life that had been blown up.Sandy had no business sounding this… hurt? Angry? Lost?Those were Ryan’s emotions, and he wasn’t particularly interested in sharing right now.

 

Sandy took a deep breath.“Let me start by saying that I’ve thought some things were true for years, and have only just found out they aren’t, and there’s a lot I still don’t understand, but I’ll be completely honest about what I know.”Oh, thanks, Ryan thought to himself sarcastically.How generous of you.Sandy, ignorant to Ryan’s private monologue, continued.“Kirsten, my wife — your stepmother —“ he pretended to not see Ryan’s flinch — “we’ve been married almost 20 years.About three years in, I had just finished law school and was studying for the bar.It was intense, and I wasn’t a very good husband.And then,” he paused, and his face got impossibly sad.“We got pregnant.And we were so excited, and making all these plans, and painting nurseries, and then Kirsten… she lost the baby.”

 

The waitress came to take their order, and Sandy waited a bit before continuing.“It was an awful time for us.All she could do was cry, and I was upset too, and trying to get ready for the bar and get my wife out of bed and our parents were getting all up in our business.Her grief… I couldn’t help her, and finally I just couldn’t take it anymore.I told her I wanted a separation.Just until after the bar.I couldn’t help her, and I thought maybe if we had some time apart she’d be able to focus on getting healthy again.We thought we were about to take the next step in our life together and then it went away and I told her I wanted us to be 100% sure before we got back on track.”

 

He paused, as if expecting a comment, but Ryan didn’t say anything.He had nothing to say to any of this. 

 

“So, we did.She went home to her parents’, and found a really excellent shrink, and made peace with the miscarriage.And I -“

 

“-met my mom,” Ryan interrupted, having figured out where the story was headed.“You abandoned your grieving wife because she was distracting you from studying for the bar and took up with my mom.”

 

Sandy shrank back from Ryan’s accusations in the diner booth.“I suppose…. yes, that’s one interpretation.But I had really tried everything to get her help, and nothing worked.She was sinking further and further and every time she looked at me all she was saw was our baby.I was desperate.I felt like the only way I could save her was to step away.Maybe I was a coward, though.I was definitely a coward when it came to Dawn.I was working part time for a law firm and had to drop off some paperwork at the courthouse.She was sitting by the door, crying. And she looked like Kirsten, and it turns out I have a type, so I sat down next to her and offered her my handkerchief and we started talking.She was there because her husband’s appeal had been denied, and I told her I’d look into it, like I wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears fool who thought he knew everything, but we met up a few more times, and when she wasn’t a hot mess, she was so sweet and naive and easily hurt, and all it did was remind me of Kirsten, and then one thing led to another which led to—“

 

“You can skip this part, thanks,” Ryan said, dryly.

 

“Right, so I had told her about Kirsten, but maybe I didn’t make it as clear as I should that we hadn’t committed to officially divorcing.It was all so complicated, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Kirsten, and Dawn was obviously still in love with Frank so about three months in I called Kirsten and she was doing so much better.We stayed up all night talking, and the next morning I called your mom and told her Kirsten and I were recommitting to our marriage.She was angry at first, but there was still Frank, and that would have been the end of it, except for you.”

 

“So she didn’t tell you she was pregnant when you broke up?”

 

“I’m not sure she knew.I found out when she called me a few months later and told me she had to talk to me about Frank.Remember, I’d tried to give him some legal help, so I’d met him.He’s a criminal, but he’s not stupid. He knew something had been going on.I’m sitting in this greasy spoon luncheonette thinking we’re going to talk about a new tack for his appeal when she walks in, stomach the size of a beach ball, and drops a paternity suit on me.Frank said he would only stay with her and Trey after his release if I accepted responsibility and paid child support.”He paused as the waitress dropped their plates and refilled their sodas.“I told her of course I would.There was no way you were Frank’s, and we hadn’t been as careful as we could have been.We did a paternity test after you were born, because the state required it since she was legally married to someone else, but it was just a formality.I set up an account and paid into it, every month.”

 

“Wait, you’ve been paying child support this whole time?Then how come she never told me about you?Why’d she fake a birth certificate?”Up to this point, Sandy Cohen hadn’t really been making a great case for himself as father of the year, but that he’d been paying child support this whole time changed things.For the first time, Ryan saw there was more to the story than Sandy the Deadbeat Sperm Donor. 

 

Sandy took a bite of his pasta and chewed slowly before finally swallowing.“This is where it gets complicated, and why I said I would tell you what I thought I knew before yesterday.Your mom and I had an agreement.Kirsten was already pregnant again, and due a few months behind Dawn.At the time, Kirsten and I were living in Berkeley so it wasn’t exactly around the corner, and our marriage was still healing, and then Dawn was dead set against shared custody because she was afraid it would confuse Trey if his baby brother had his dad in his life but Trey didn’t.So our deal was that she would tell you about me when you were old enough to understand, and that when you were 12 it would be your choice if you wanted to meet.She refused to talk about it when I saw her in prison yesterday, but as best I can tell, that’s not what happened.She just let everyone think you were Frank’s, including you.He got out of prison the first time when you were 4, and had someone fake up a birth certificate so you’d go to school as Ryan Atwood.Did she really never tell you?”

 

Ryan shook his head.“Never.I knew I didn’t look much like Dad — Frank — but all anyone could ever talk about was how much I looked like Mom, so I didn’t think much of it.So you sent support all that time without knowing anything about me?”

 

“No, actually.That was part of the deal.She would write me, sometimes call, and let me know what you were up to.She sent your school pictures, and kept me updated about your life.She was actually really good about it until about two years ago.Before that, the money would be withdrawn from the account sporadically, like she’d leave it there until she needed it.But then it started being withdrawn completely, within a day of being deposited.I thought maybe you were sick, so I called but she said no, you were fine, but that Frank was back in jail and she was having trouble making ends meet.But she sounded… just off.Like it was more than money.The notes about you got more sporadic, and then they just stopped entirely about a year ago.I tried to call but her number had been disconnected so I went to the last address I had, and you weren’t there.I talked to Frank, but they’d gotten divorced when he went back to prison and he didn’t know where you were.I hired a PI, but she must have been working under the table, and there were no utilities anywhere in her name, and no Ryan Cohen the right age registered in school anywhere in California.There was a Trey Atwood who dropped out several years ago, but again, the address was no good.You’d all just vanished.And so three months ago, I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done since I’d walked away from you in that hospital nursery.I did not deposit the money into your account.It was the only thing I could think of to force her to get in touch.”

 

“Two years ago….” Ryan thought back.“That’s about when she met AJ.”

 

“That’s what Trey said, too.That’s how I knew how to find you.I’m a juvenile public defender, and your brother has a juvie record.When he was arrested in that car, the DA asked us to pull his record.He told me the whole story.”

 

“No, he didn’t,” Ryan denied, reflexively.“Trey doesn’t tell personal business to strangers.”

 

“He was just a little guy at the time, but he remembered me.And,” he admitted, “I came equipped with your original birth certificate and a promise I’d take care of you.But you’re right, it took him a while to remind him of when he was a little boy and convince him I was telling the truth.He wasn’t too pleased with her either.Apparently she’d been giving your child support money to AJ for booze.”

 

“Booze, gambling, smokes, tattoos…At least now I know why he never seemed to work but always had money.Before he came along we were doing ok, even after Dad went back to jail.” Now it was Ryan’s turn to pretend he didn’t see Sandy’s flinch.“But I think she must have told him the truth.When he threw me through the door, he called me a kike.”

 

Yeah, there was no ignoring that flinch, or the way Sandy’s face darkened.“In her own way she tried to protect you as long as she could, but he was furious that the money had stopped.But you and I both know AJ wasn’t the only one overindulging in the booze.I barely recognized her yesterday, and she’s starting to show signs of the DTs.”

 

Ryan looked away.There was no point in denying his mother’s alcoholism.She’s always loved her beer more than she should, but after AJ arrived beer had become vodka, and a sixer had become a liter.She’d maintained AJ made her happy, but all Ryan knew was he had never had to clean puke out of her hair before the new boyfriend moved in.To cover his silence, he took a bite from his burger, and turned the conversation over in his mind.That was how he realized he’d nearly missed an important point earlier.“Wait, did you say your wife was pregnant when Mom told you?So, does that mean you have kids?I mean -“ he added, blushing,” other kids?”

 

“A son, Seth,” Sandy confirmed.“He’s four months younger than you.We told him the whole truth when he was five, and he was so excited to find out he had a big brother.When we had to tell him you’d decided not to meet us when you turned 12, he was crushed.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t decide anything,” Ryan pointed out.“I didn’t even know you existed.”

 

“And we know that now, but we didn’t then.I had sent your mom pictures of him, so she could show them to you, and of course he’d seen lots of pictures of you.I don’t think we realized how lonely he was, or much he’d been looking forward to finally having you in his life.Then there was this whole thing with his bar mitzvah, and well, let’s just say it was a bad few years.He’s back to excited now that he knows you didn’t actually reject him, though.He doesn’t know everything that happened with AJ and your mom though.He just thinks Dawn is having some trouble and agreed you should come stay with us for a while.”

 

Ryan, who had plenty of experience being disappointed by older brothers, decided not to touch any of that.“What about your wife? Is she excited?”His tone came out a little more scared than he’d planned.

 

Sandy put down his fork and appeared to be considering his words carefully.Finally he sighed.“I told you I’d be honest.She’s not thrilled.It took a lot of marriage counseling for us to get past what happened with Dawn and she was really brittle that first year.But she knows I’ve never been happy with how we’d arranged things with Dawn.She knows….” he paused.“She knows I’ve missed you.And you’ll see, she’s a good person, with a good heart.She doesn’t blame you for any of this.She is mad at Dawn though, now that we know what happened.Really mad.”He paused again.“I can’t say I don’t agree with her.”

 

Ryan couldn’t say he blamed the as-yet-unmet Kirsten.He kind of wanted to find his mother and punch her himself.But still, for all that Sandy seemed to be saying the right things, Ryan wasn’t sure how much he could trust the older man.Sandy might not be Sandy the Deadbeat Sperm Donor after all, but he sure wasn’t Dad either.He played with the last few fries on his plate. 

 

“So… what now? I move in with you, and we play happy families until Mom or Trey gets out of jail?”

 

Sandy went to grab Ryan’s hand across the table, aborting when Ryan pulled away.“Ryan — son — I have custody now.Your mother knows she’s sick and needs help, and that if she fought me she’d lose, so she didn’t fight.You’re with us… well, for the foreseeable future.And I’ve spent the last 15 years thinking about getting to know you; about you getting to know us.” Now Sandy’s voice was cracking.“Would you please think about it? Give us a chance?Look, I’ve worked with a lot of kids over the years, some in much worse places than you.Not knowing before today that you had us, doesn’t mean you don’t have us.Just six months, please.If your mom is doing better in six months, we can talk about you going back to her.”

 

Ryan thought about it.About the meager bag of clothing and battered books in the back of Sandy’s shiny car.About the way Mrs. Díaz had hugged him and Teresa had cried into his shoulder while Mrs. Johnson moved her papers around and Sandy Cohen had loaded his meager bag into the shiny car, without a word of judgement or pity.About how this man looked _nothing like him,_ but had a DNA test and a birth certificate that said that was just the luck of the genetic draw.About a brother who would actually be glad to have him around, and a stepmother who probably wouldn’t.It was summer, so there weren’t any school - “Wait, what about school? Would I have to go to school there or can I stay at Chino with my friends?”

 

“Seth goes to the Harbor School.It’s an excellent school, very selective.I got a look at your SATs; you should have no trouble getting in.It could really help you reach your potential. But,” he added, the look in Ryan’s face making it clear he was skeptical, “we have some time to talk about it.Since I work in San Bernadino County, I think we could probably work out some way to get you back and forth to school.Just, give it some thought.”

 

Ryan turned that over a bit before it prompted something else.“If you live in Newport Beach, and your son goes to private school, does that mean you’re rich?I thought your kind of lawyer didn’t make money.”

 

“We don’t.Kirsten, she’s the rich one,” Sandy said, waggling his eyebrows.“Her father owns half of Orange County.Don’t worry about that though.We figured out how to make it work a long time ago, and knowing you were out there was always a part of the conversation.She’s not going to be Cinderella’s stepmother and make you clean the stairs with a toothbrush for your daily bread.”

 

Despite himself Ryan snorted.He didn’t think he’d be able to walk in glass slippers.“Do you maybe have a picture I could see?I don’t know, it just feels weird, talking about living with people and I don’t even know what they look like.”

 

Sandy’s eyes lit up.“Of course! Here -“ he took out his wallet.“This is me and Kirsten, at our 10 year anniversary party.” He handed over the whole wallet, and Ryan knew he wasn’t in Chino anymore.Kirsten’s diamond earrings looked like they’d cost more than his dad’s car.“And that’s Seth at his bar mitzvah, and last year when he got his boat,” a clone of the man before him, tall with with a goofy grin standing in front of a small catamaran, “Summer Breeze” painted in elegant letters across the side.“And here’s the three of us last year at Chrismukkah —I’ll let Seth explain that one,” he added at Ryan’s confused look.“And here,” he flipped over a page in the little booklet of pictures, ”is you.”And it was.Ryan was looking at his 2nd grade picture, all shy eyes and missing teeth, and then another of him sitting on an elephant giggling, vaguely remembered from a birthday trip to the zoo when he was 7 or 8.His school play in junior high, him as Snoopy with the floppy ears and little black nose, and then, just two years ago, kneeling with a football in full pads, helmet on the grass next to him, wearing a jersey Sandy had probably thought said “Cohen” across the back.Suddenly he just couldn’t anymore, and he jumped up and with a rushed excuse, ran off.He felt Sandy start to follow him before realizing he was running toward the bathroom and not the front door, the quiet whispers of the other diners following him.He heard Sandy ask for the check just as the bathroom door closed but then he was kneeling in front of the can, feeling his burger threaten to come back. Sandy had pictures of him.In his wallet.Had maybe shown them to people.“And this is my other son.He lives with his mother, I don’t get to seem him much.”Or did he actually say “this is my son who was born by accident and who we’ve agreed I can never see?”Did people feel sorry for him, with his lost son?Ryan knew what it was like to have a father he didn’t see, he knew what it was like to hear people’s pity when they found out his father was in prison; had been for most of Ryan’s life.How did it work the other way?Irrationally, he wanted to go see Frank and ask him, “how do people react when they find out you have kids you can’t see?” but that was nonsense, and Frank _didn’t_ have kids, he had kid, singular, Trey; and Ryan had been the accident Frank had taken care of, since there was money in it for him….

 

But that wasn’t fair either.Frank Atwood, whatever else he was, had never once treated Ryan any differently than Trey.They’d gone to the same ball games, and the same picnics, and gotten the same beatdowns.He’d taught him how to play football, and about condoms (and wow, wasn’t _that_ ironic in hindsight) and tried, in his own screwed up to-hell-with-the-rules way to teach Ryan how to be a man using the exact same methods he used on Trey.Ryan searched back through his memories for even one hint that Frank Atwood had done all of these things for another man’s son, and there was nothing.The good parts, such as they were, of being Frank Atwood’s sons had affected both he and Trey equally, as had the sins.It was AJ, who his mother must had told the truth to somewhere along the way, who had singled Ryan out.With both men Ryan had at least known where he stood.Maybe it wasn’t a great place to be standing, but he knew where it was.And now here was Sandy, whose motives should be more transparent, but who mostly Ryan just found incredibly confusing.What kind of man agrees to pay for a kid he has no expectations of seeing?How could he just agree to be… completely absent from Ryan’s life?How could he think that was a thing that was okay?How did he know Ryan hadn’t needed him; hadn’t needed a father, someone to teach him how to shave, and hold him when Ryan skinned his knee, or when he was nervous about football tryouts.All the minor bits that add up to being a father and Sandy Cohen had _missed_ them. _Voluntarily_.What kind of man did that?The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.Sandy had just walked away, paid his way out of the problem of Ryan and he had the _nerve_ to carry pictures in his wallet like they had some kind of real relat —

 

The pain in Ryan’s fist broke him out of his anger spiral before he fully realized he had just hit the paper towel dispenser hard enough to split the skin across his knuckles and dent the innocent metal box.He stared at the blood dripping off his hand and onto the floor; was still staring when the door quietly opened and Sandy slipped in, leaning against the wall without saying anything.Ryan stared at him and blurted out the first thing in his head.“It hurts.” 

 

Sandy nodded.“I know.” He grabbed some towels from the battered dispenser, passed them to Ryan, pulled the door open, and stepped aside, following Ryan out of the bathroom, through the restaurant where nearly every eye was watching them without trying to be seen watching them, and after a quiet word and a few bills slipped to the diner manager, out the door to the car. 

 

One swing through urgent care later to verify Ryan hadn’t managed to break his hand, they were finally pulling up at a house Ryan never would have thought he’d see in person.The elegant sweep of the driveway up to the columned front porch was intimidating enough, but the sheer size of the place was enough for Ryan to start looking in all directions for some sort of escape route.There was no way he could live here.Not Ryan Atwood, who had shared a room with his brother most of his life and whose entire house would fit in this mansion’s pantry.He had never seen a real pantry and was uncertain how large they actually were, but he was pretty sure this house had one.His nausea, which had been growing over since the diner, increased logarithmically.He was almost relieved when Sandy asked Ryan to wait outside for a minute.Sandy had called from the urgent care place to let Kirsten and Seth know they were running late, but he’d never left Ryan’s earshot.Ryan figured now Sandy was going to tell them they were getting a socially maladjusted teenaged delinquent who hid from social workers and punched paper towel dispensers.Might as well add smoking to the list, he thought philosophically, as he pulled out his hidden packet and lit it up, thinking this might be the last time he got to enjoy for a while. 

 

“Can I bum one?” came from the dark off to his right, and he turned and saw the most beautiful girl he’d ever met in real life, ethereal and slender like he’d imagined fairies when he was a kid.He experienced a moment of dizziness at the knowledge that someone like her was a real person who he was really standing in front of,He kind of helplessly felt his body go all slinky before her, like she was using her fairy powers to draw out his sexuality, before realizing that she was really going to think he was an idiot who didn’t speak English if he didn’t respond soon.He handed her the packet and his lit cigarette, and she casually lit his off of it.“Are you visiting the Cohens?Who are you?”

 

“I’m Ryan,” he said.“I’m going to be staying with them for a while because my brother, my mom, and her boyfriend were all arrested in 72 hours.I’m…Sandy Cohen is my father.”He tried the words out loud for the first time.Nope, still made him nauseous.

 

The fairy girl snorted.“Yeah, right.Even Seth stopped trying to convince us that his big, bad, older brother was going to come and stay with them a few years ago.No really, who are you?Are you their cousin from Boston?”

 

Wow, so that hadn’t gone well at _all_.Before Ryan could figure out how to respond, Sandy came back out the door.“Hi, Marissa.Put that out before I have to tell your parents you were smoking.And you,” he gestured at Ryan.“No smoking in the house.”

 

Marissa, because of course fairy girl had a name, and smooth, Atwood, really smooth forgetting to get it, smiled at Sandy.“Hey Mr. Cohen.I was just talking to your nephew.Ryan, you should come to the fashion show tomorrow.It’s this big thing we do for charity, so you can meet everyone.Make sure you bring him, Mr. Cohen.Bye!”She ran into the house next door, and Ryan, once again, experienced a swimming sensation.Not only was she real, and not an escapee from Tuatha Dé Danaan, but she lived right next door.Suddenly living with Sandy had a bit more to recommend it. 

 

He turned back from watching her retreat to a raised eyebrow.“Nephew?”

 

Ryan shrugged.“She didn’t believe me when I told her who I was.”He paused.“Is that going to happen a lot?”

 

“Maybe,” Sandy admitted.“We moved here after you and Seth was born, andI’m not exactly known for playing the field.And,” he added, a bit wistfully.“You look so much like Dawn did, back then.”He shook it off.“C’mon.They can’t wait to meet you.”

 

That turned out to only be half a lie.Maybe three quarters.Seth was…. overwhelming, and he only stopped himself from taking an involuntary step back from the enthusiastic tacklehug with a grim reminder that he literally had nowhere else to go.Somewhere in there was the thought that it not fair that Ryan finally got to be the older brother, but he was still the shorter brother.Kirsten… well, Sandy hadn’t been lying when he said he had a type.The same blonde hair, blue eyes, and the slim build Ryan remembered from when he was a kid.She also had the same air of barely holding it together Dawn had, before she would give up and reach for a bottle.Ryan spotted an open bottle of wine, dirty glass beside it, behind her on the counter, and hoped that Sandy hadn’t left out something else both woman had in common.Kirsten was brittle and buttoned up in a way Dawn, who preferred to express her emotions as openly and often as necessary regardless of how much they hurt those around her, had never been though.As they hesitantly shook hands and she gave him a fragile smile that said “look, I’m really trying here,” he understood the need Sandy had had to protect her from more regular contact with his own mother.They would have loathed each other. 

 

“We held dinner for you.Are you hungry?It’s Thai takeout.I’m afraid I’m not much use in the kitchen,” she gave a nervous half-laugh.“Do you like Pad Thai?”

 

Ryan didn’t know much about Thai food, but the covered containers smelled good.No one said anything as they passed the containers around, Ryan giving everything a sniff, and surprised to find a few things involving shrimp.His dad — Frank — had loved shrimp, but it hadn’t been in the budget much even when he wasn’t in prison and here it was, more than once.Right, back to not belonging here.

 

“Your hand ok?” Seth finally broke the silence, gesturing toward the cleaned out and wrapped cuts and bruises.“Dad said you hurt it.What happened?”

 

Ryan deliberately didn’t look toward where he figured Sandy was probably trying to signal him not to say anything.“I punched a paper towel dispenser.”

 

Beautiful, awkward silence, while Sandy froze and Kirsten and Seth stared.Seth broke first.“Probably had it coming.Mouthed off at you, right?They’re uppity, bathroom fixtures.Can never tell when they’re going to need a beatdown - ow!”

 

Ryan figured Seth probably would have kept going on that vein for quite a while if Kirsten hadn’t kicked him under the table.Ryan was reminded that Seth didn’t know that AJ actually had given him a beatdown for mouthing off.True, all Ryan had said was was it impossible for AJ to get up off the sofa once in a while and get his own damn beer after being told to fetch the older man a cold one, but then, AJ had a fairly wide definition of mouthing off.Still, he took pity on Seth, who he could tell already was almost painfully awkward when comfortable, forget when he was uncomfortable.Ryan had been the same way, before living the way he’d lived had taught him the safest strategy was to just be quiet.

 

“Just a whole bunch of stuff catching up with me all at once.The paper towel dispenser was closest.”There was another awkward pause while the three Cohens tried to figure out what to say next and Ryan tried to decide if he liked Thai food.There was some green leafy thing that kind of tasted like licorice that he finally ended up picking out, after which it was pretty much just noodles and shrimp, and he could deal with that. The day had been too full of all the wrong kinds of novelty and he couldn’t deal with plants that tasted like licorice.

 

Finally, Kirsten spoke up.“So, Ryan, we have a decorator coming out in a few days to help you do up your room upstairs, but right now there’s not even a bed up there so in the meantime, we’ve set you up in the pool house.I didn’tknow what you’d have with you so there’s some new pyjamas and a toothbrush and stuff like that waiting for you.If you have any preferences for shampoos or that sort of thing, write them on the list for Rosa.We can go shopping for the basics tomorrow.”

 

Ryan tried to remember if he’d ever _in his life_ had to think about his preferred brand of shampoo and only came back when he heard Seth say “Noooo!” in a kind of exaggerated way and caught up with the shopping idea.“I’m fine.I brought jeans and t-shirts and stuff.”

 

“Gonna need a suit,” Sandy said.“Marissa Cooper invited him to her fashion show tomorrow night,” he added to Kirsten and Seth.“Also, for some reason she thinks he’s my nephew.”

 

“Unbelievable,” Seth said. 

 

“What, that I tried to tell her who I was and she assumed I was lying?” Ryan asked.

 

“No, not that she doesn’t believe you’re my brother.That I’ve lived next door to her practically my entire life and her dad and my mom grew up together and almost got married and she’s never even invited me to a birthday party, but you’re here 10 minutes and getting personalized summons.” 

 

“Do I really need a suit, though?” Ryan asked, desperate to change the subject off the neighbor fairy girl.“I mean, it’s a bunch of high schoolers parading around in borrowed dresses from Macy’s, right?”

 

All three Cohens shared knowing smirks, and Sandy shook his head.“If only, Ryan.If only.”

 

Which is how Ryan found himself the next night, standing terrified, against a wall while a woman in a dress he was reasonably sure he recognized from one of his mom’s tabloids, asked him what it was like to live in Boston with all that winter.Up to that point, Ryan had actually been having a pretty good day.Kirsten had taken him shopping for a suit first thing, because it turned out she and he had very different ideas about acceptable menswear and hers included semi-custom tailoring so they needed time to make the alterations.“At least until we can have you properly fitted.Sandy’s going to call his guy and get you in next week,” she said, as she casually dropped the equivalent of two month’s rent on a suit she clearly found inferior in some way, along with a heavy silk tie he couldn’t stop running his hands over, shiny, shiny shoes, and socks that were probably worth more than his entire wardrobe.He’d managed to stop her at the suit, fortunately.The gleam in her eyes as she pawed through the dress slacks made him distinctly uncomfortable.Then Sandy had suggested Seth take Ryan out on the boat, and Ryan felt like he had finally gotten to see Seth in his element.The uncomfortable, uncertain, word-vomiter was gone, and a sure, capable sailor emerged,manipulating the ropes — “lines, brother-o mine-o, they’re called lines.Unless they’re attached to a sail, and then they’re a sheet” and watching the water and the wind, clearly reading a language Ryan didn’t understand.Ryan had done several years of swimming lessons and was fine with water generally, but he was definitely more comfortable in a nice chlorinated pool than out on the Pacific Ocean.Seth put him at ease, though — made it fun, and comfortable in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. Seth clearly felt more at ease too, opening up about his one true love, the boat’s namesake, Summer Roberts, who didn’t know Seth existed.Ryan admitted he was curious about what kind of girl Seth would fall in love with.Ice Princess? Cosplay fanatic?He kind of thought it was probably more the former than the latter, since Seth also mentioned Summer was Marissa’s best friend.She didn’t seem like someone who would socialize regularly with a girl who knew all the plot points the Marvel movies got wrong from the comics. 

 

And then when he’d been getting ready, getting more and more nervous as he put on the Suit of Excessive Lucre, still fascinated by the way the silk tie felt, Sandy had come in, and showed Ryan how to tie it.He felt like a fool, until Sandy told him he himself hadn’t learned to tie a tie until he was 25.Ryan tried to remember if he’d ever seen Frank in a tie, but the only outfit he really associated with the man he’d thought was his father was prison jumpsuits and t-shirts with a pack of cigs rolled up in the sleeve. Sandy had stepped right into Ryan’s personal space, showing him how to manipulate the exotic fabric neatly, gently laying his hands on Ryan’s shoulders when he was finished.It was the first time Ryan had actually felt comfortable in Sandy’s presence since he’d knocked on the Díaz’s door, and for the first time he was ready contemplate the chance that he might potentially considerthe possibility of living as Sandy Cohen’s son.Then he felt like a weak fool, that something as minor as men’s accessories could sway him so quickly, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the ghost of Sandy’s hands on his shoulders until they arrived at the fashion show.

 

Ryan had experienced a lot of different kinds of upheaval and confusion over the last 48 hours.Anger at his mom, trying to figure out Sandy’s motives, even the challenge of trying to read Kirsten, who he still felt should hate him somehow, but who mostly seemed as uncomfortable with him as he was with her.This room, though, was confusing in a whole different way.He felt like he’d accidentally wandered onto the set of some soap opera and he was the only one who didn’t have a copy of the script.Sandy had warned him in the car about the “Newpsies,” Sandy’s special slang for the “dangerously bored” Newport trophy wives, while Kirsten protested they weren’t that bad and Seth summarized them as “feeble airheads, just like their kids.”Ryan had been worried about what he would say when people asked him who he was, but it turned out Marissa must have said something about “the Cohen’s cousin from Boston” before he got there, and none of them really cared what he had to say on the subject.The rumor mill had done its work, and he was some relative from Boston or Seattle or any of several other possible cities.At that point, it was just easier to go with it.He didn’t actively try to correct anyone, he just… didn’t confirm or contradict whatever it was they wanted to believe.He’d been surprised when Sandy and Kirsten had mostly left him alone to circulate solo, and Seth seemed to be talking about sailing with a boy at least three years younger, so it was interesting to explore this crowd largely unaccompanied.He saw Kirsten pointing his way a few times, most notably to a rather scary looking redhead who based on the family resemblance was probably Marissa’s mother, so he figured the cat would be well and truly out of the bag by the end of the night, but until then, he had fun as the rumors got more and more distorted and fanciful.He felt Sandy come up behind him as a woman who seemed to have trouble emoting through all the Botox asked him about living in Canada. 

 

“Sorry, Priscilla, do you mind if I borrow Ryan here back?I need him to meet someone,” Sandy said, already leading Ryan away and into a quiet hallway.“Did you honestly just tell Priscilla Ramsey you were from Canada?”

 

Ryan smirked.“Nope.She asked if she’d heard I was from Canada, and I said yes she had.I never said I _was_ from Canada.”

 

Sandy, who’d looked kind of severe, froze, and then started laughing.“Spoken like a true lawyer, Ryan…I can’t believe I missed that.That’s what you’ve been doing all along, haven’t you?”

 

Ryan nodded.“You’re not mad?I don’t really know how to deal to these people.”

 

“No, I’m not mad.I was going to be, since lying didn’t seem like the best way to start out, but honestly, making fun of them without them realizing it is how I deal with them too.It’ll just be corroborating evidence you’re my child, since they all think I’m an unsocialized heathen already.Of all the things you could have inherited from me, though, my sense of humor might be one of the more dangerous. It’s certainly gotten me into enough trouble over the years.For now though, maybe stay with Seth and stop not denying the rampant rumors.I’m going to go warn Kirsten there are about to be some really confused Newpsies on her hands.”

 

It seemed like a good plan, so Ryan went and found Seth, standing by himself over by the bar, looking toward where Marissa was standing with a petite brunette, no doubt the legendary Summer.“That her?”

 

“Shh,” Seth said, panicked.“She’ll see us looking.” 

 

“Too late,” Ryan said.“They’re looking our way.”

 

Seth spun around.“Quick, talk to me about something, anything.Pretend I said something funny.” 

 

Ryan cooperated with Seth’s panic attack, laughing enthusiastically while checking out Seth’s crush.She was definitely cute, but she had that spoiled, peevish look Ryan had seen on a lot of her peers’ faces this evening.She was also looking at Ryan with a slightly more predatory look on her face than Ryan was comfortable with, and he suddenly wanted to stay away from her.It hadn’t occurred to him that not looking a thing like either Sandy or Seth meant he, Ryan, might be physically attractive to these people in a way that the other two were not.Ryan had eyes - he knew he was conventionally attractive in a WASP-y way, and he probably looked more like Kirsten than the people in the room he was actually related to, but his last girlfriend was Mexican.He didn’t give a shit about that kind of thing.Clearly, neither had Kirsten, but the same could not be said for the rest of this crowd.If this Summer girl was going to blow off Seth and pursue Ryan because he was the blue-eyed one, he wasn’t interested, and he made no move to approach, despite Marissa’s smile and wave.In the meantime, Seth pointed out people in the room he felt Ryan should know, along with some truly hysterical character assassination summarizing their most salient characteristics from Seth’s perspective before it was time for the fashion show proper, which was nothing like a bunch of high schoolers in borrowed dresses form Macy’s and much more like what Ryan would have thought a Paris fashion show was like, if he had bothered to think about Paris fashion shows before tonight.About halfway through, he leaned over to Kirsten.“Thank you for insisting on the suit,” he whispered.She smiled.“Sandy’s from New York, but I grew up here.Think of me as your native guide,” she whispered back.

 

After the (excruciating. truly.) fashion show he’d seen a way to maybe get Seth in front of the girl of his brother’s dreams.Trey’s idea of being a good big brother had been trying to teach Ryan how to steal cars, so when Summer had come up to Ryan and invited him to a beach after party, Ryan’s thought process had pretty much been “Would Trey have done this for me? Probably not, so I definitely should” and he’d convinced Seth to go with him.It was, as he’d expected, full of half-naked yet still overdressed girls and obnoxious, cocky boys getting smashed on the contents of Daddy’s liquor cabinet.Ryan didn’t want to talk to anyone, Seth didn’t know how, and both of them managed to stick out like sore thumbs.Ryan was about to give it up as a bad job and ask Seth how they should go about getting a ride back to the Cohen’s when Summer, sloppy drunk and wearing a bikini smaller than most cocktail napkins, tackled him with all the bravado of a teenaged girl with absolute faith in her own irresistibility to any and all teenaged boys.She also seemed to have grown a few extra arms as Ryan tried to remove her overenthusiastic hands from the inside of his overpriced suit.Of course, it would be exactly as she reached for his belt that Seth came out and found them on the beach house patio, because if Ryan Atwood didn’t have bad luck he’d have no luck at all.The look of utter betrayal in the other boy’s face was more than he could bear as he tried to explain it wasn’t what it looked like.Seth looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.Ryan’s first try at being a good big brother, and he’d made a complete fuck up of it. 

 

“How could you?I named my boat after her!You know what — like mother, like son.You’re both liars after _my_ mother’s money.Why did you make Dad move you here from Chino anyway?All you want is the child support.”Seth made an aborted attempt to punch Ryan, easily blocked, before shoving the blond boy away and running off the deck. 

 

The next few minutes were confusing.Somewhere in between Summer’s “”ew! who _are_ you?” to Seth’s comment about naming his boat after her, and her “Chino? ew!” the entire party had turned to watch the spectacle and hear Seth’s angry accusations before Seth headed toward the beach while Ryan tried to follow after him around the sprawled teenagers.He saw Marissa staring, and could tell she, at least, had finally figured out he’d been telling the truth the first time, but he couldn’t deal with the scared, confused look on her face, or the absolute certainty that she would be explaining everything that just happened and within the hour the entire teenaged population of Newport Beach would know all about Sandy Cohen’s bastard.He needed to find Seth. 

 

It took a little bit, and Ryan was almost too late.He found Seth hanging upside down from the paws of a bunch of large, gym-fit boys.He recognized the leader, who had been driving the car in which Marissa arrived at the party.Seth, while doing his rundown in the dining room, had pointed him out as Marissa’s boyfriend Luke, adding he was a water polo player in a tone that equated that particular sport with a tenacious bout of toenail fungus, but the only other thing Ryan knew about the tall boy with the beach tan was he had gone off with some blonde girl who was definitely _not_ Marissa soon after arriving at the party.Ryan was predisposed not to like him for a lot of reasons, but it was the sight of Seth, a brother Ryan had just unintentionally really hurt and needed to make it up to, that sent Ryan ploughing into the lead bully like an out-of-control freight train.He knew he couldn’t win.Gym-fit wasn’t the same thing as un-fit, and Luke had at least 30 lbs and four inches on Ryan, all of it muscle.But he didn’t need to beat Luke, he just needed to distract him and his cronies long enough to Seth to get free and run away.Seth had apparently been indulging in the Dutch courage though.He had indeed gotten free, but rather than running away like a sensible geek, he was trying to get his own licks in.He was actually making some progress, although Ryan could tell that was more from the bigger kids’ surprise that Seth was fighting back than any real fighting skills.The outcome was inevitable, but that didn’t stop Ryan from giving as much as he could, and he liked to think as he lay groaning on the sand coughing while Luke crowed “Welcome to the OC, bitch,” that Luke and sidekicks would be feeling this in the morning.

 

Fortunately Seth had enough money in his wallet for a cab, and the two boys were able to sneak into the pool house without waking either Sandy or Kirsten.Ryan tried to get the brand new suit off without damaging it any further.The shirt was probably a lost cause, but if he got it in cold water fast enough it was worth a shot.Seth mostly just seemed stunned, and sat on the pool house sofa without moving while Ryan tried to rescue the expensive suit.He could feel his eye, the same one AJ had blackened just, what, a week ago? Was it really that recent? swelling up again.Seth had his own impressive looking bruise on his cheekbone, and Ryan winced.There was no way they’d be able to hide either one from Seth’s parents.Rooting around in the little kitchenette didn’t turn up any ice.Seth still hadn’t said anything, just staring into the middle distance.He finally spoke up a beat after Ryan had laid back on the bed, resigned to the ass-chewing that was no doubt waiting for them both in the morning. 

 

“I don’t know what to say.You totally had my back out there.Why’d you come for me?”

 

“Because….” Ryan paused.“You needed someone, and if not me, who?”

 

“Yeah, but I was a total asshole to you. I accused you of being after Mom’s money.”

 

Ryan sat up and looked at Seth, really looked at him.The last time Ryan had seen someone look that confused, he’d been looking in the mirror.They’d grown up completely differently, but Seth and Ryan had one glaring thing in common besides their genetics.Both had learned not to trust other peoples’ motives.There was at least one thing Ryan could do about that. 

 

“What did Sandy tell you, about why I was moving here?”

 

“Just that your stepfather was back in jail, and your mom was having trouble because of it so you might be coming to visit after all.I’m not going to lie, I was kind of pissed since you’d blown us off three years ago, but then he told me that you’d never turned us down in the first place, that your mom had let you think your stepdad was your real dad, and you hadn’t blown us off because you hadn’t known you were blowing us off.Dad was so mad.I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talking about anyone like that.Was he…” he paused, clearly not sued to having to consider the idea that his father had lied to him.Ryan understood his upset perfectly.“Was he lying?”

 

“That’s all true.He didn’t lie.He just… left out a pretty important piece.Mom and Dad — Frank — got divorced a few years ago, after he went back to jail this time.Mom always had a borderline drinking problem, at least as long as I can remember, and it started getting a lot worse.About a year after Dad went in, she hooked up with this guy, AJ.He was a real piece of work.He didn’t work at all, and I didn’t know it because I didn’t even know there was child support, but they were basically using it to buy out the liquor store every month, sometimes spending all day drinking on the sofa.AJ started hitting me.I mean, Dad hit me too, but only when I deserved it.AJ just seemed to like hitting me.And I guess Mom was afraid to keep sending updates to Sandy in case he realized how bad things were getting so eventually she stopped, and when Sandy couldn’t find us, he stopped paying the support to force her to get in touch.When the money stopped, AJ got really mad.He threw me through the front door and more or less into a police car, so he got locked up for that.Then Mom got arrested trying to bail him out.I’m still not clear what happened there.And then Trey, my older brother, got arrested trying to steal a car because we needed money for rent.And I guess when that happened, Sandy saw the report because of something Trey had done as a juvie, and was finally able to track Mom down in jail and get the rest of the story out of her, and I guess from there he went straight to some judge and got an emergency custody order.The first I knew about any of it was when this social worker showed up and was all surprise! your Dad’s not your Dad! You’re mom’s a liar whose been stealing your support money to keep a loser in booze and cigarettes! You’re moving to Newport right now!I didn’t…” his voice broke when he realized something important that was missing from the whole story.“I didn’t even have a chance to see Mom before we left.And the next thing I knew I was here, and Summer, man, you gotta believe me, she just kind of jumped on me and I was trying to get her off without hurting her and then you were outside and I _swear_ , she’s cute and all but I would never, ever do that to you because you and Sandy and Kirsten, you are pretty much the only family I have who aren’t locked up, which is all kind of fucked up since I didn’t even know you existed three days ago.So yeah,” he finished, his anger finally played out.“Sandy told you the truth, but he left a few things out.”

 

Seth’s eyes had been getting bigger and bigger and when Ryan finished, Seth didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then, “Huh,” and then more nothing. 

 

“Was that too much?” Ryan felt bad.He was pretty sure almost everything in the story he’d just recounted was outside of Seth’s experience.Except for the drinking. Ryan had watched more than a few of those Newpsies polish off an insane quantity of wine tonight.

 

“No, no,” Seth said, slowly.“I’m glad you told me.And now, _wow_ do I feel like an asshole.He really threw you through a door?”

 

“Well, it was a pretty cheap door.Broke easily.Didn’t really hurt all that much.”

 

“See, now, you say stuff like that and I have no idea what to say or even if you’re joking or not.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.It’s over now.Scary social worker said he was denied bail.”

 

“That’s good I suppose.”Seth pondered a bit more.“Can I ask you something?

 

“Anything.”

 

“Would you have? Wanted to meet, I mean, when you turned 12? If you’d known the truth?”

 

Ryan hadn’t really considered the question.He hadn’t really had a chance for that kind of would-a could-a over the last few days.He gave the question honest thought.“I don’t know.Dad — Frank — was arrested again just before my 12th birthday, and the idea that I had somewhere else to go, I think I would have really liked that.But this place… I don’t fit in now, and I wouldn’t have fit in then.I don’t know that I would have come back after the first time.If I had a choice.”

 

Seth gave this weird little head bob.“This place is the gaping mouth of hell, and I can’t wait to get out of here.I was counting down the days until you turned 12 because then there would be at least one person who I thought would want to be friends with me.I thought maybe we would go to your house and I could get out of here, at least temporarily.”

 

“Yeah….. I don’t really see Kirsten being a big fan of that plan,” Ryan demurred.

 

“I was 11 and desperate.Parental logic wasn’t a big part of my thought process.”

 

“So, then….” Ryan tried to figure out how to ask this question politely.“I bet you were pretty mad at me when you thought I said no.”

 

“Furious,” Seth admitted readily.“I’d been seeing these pictures, and hearing stories about my big brother and how I’d get to meet him when he turned 12 and then it was just like oh! never mind! and I wanted to drive to your house and punch you.Fortunately I didn’t know where you lived.Or how to drive.”

 

“What’s with the big brother schtick? I’m, like four whole months older than you.”

 

“Like I said, 11.Four months was more than enough to me to hang my hat on.”

 

Both boys were silent for a bit, and then “You know we’re going to be in a shit ton of trouble with your parents tomorrow, right?”

 

Seth was already dozing off, or he might have pointed out that 50% of the Cohens were Ryan’s parents as well.Ryan pulled a blanket over Seth, and was about to curl up himself when he heard a car and the sound of giggling girls.Looking over the wall, he saw Marissa, out cold being dropped onto the driveway of her house by her so-called friends, including Summer, and then left behind.Not really knowing what to do, he first looked for a house key but no joy, so finally he just brought her back and put her in his bed, pulling some cushions off to make an impromptu bed before finally getting to sleep himself.

 

The next morning he woke up to a still passed out (and he was right, impressively bruised) Seth and an empty, unmade bed, Marissa the fairy girl having apparently retreated back to her own gilded castle under the hill.Before he really had a chance to do more than change his clothes, Kirsten came in, freaking out and looking for Seth.As Ryan had predicted, she came completely unspooled at the sight of Seth’s face, and rounded on Ryan.Ryan didn’t really know how to defend himself, but speaking up had never really helped him in the past so he just stayed silent. “What did you do to him!?Did you punch my boy?” and Ryan felt his stomach drop.Seth was still too sleep-addled to do more than say “No, Mom, wait, ouch” and clutch his head while Kirsten fussed over him. “You just wait ’til your father gets home,” she said to Ryan, and he had a momentary delirium picturing Frank Atwood in a prison jumpsuit wandering around the set of an 80s sitcom.“He’s out surfing but as soon as he’s back, you have some explaining to do,” she added as she hauled her son up and half-marched, half-dragged him toward the house, still protesting ineffectively that she was misunderstanding the situation. 

 

Not knowing what else to do, Ryan trailed behind them into the house, stopping when he got to the kitchen.He could hear Kirsten and Seth having a heated discussion upstairs, so he started investigating the refrigerator.He was a 15 year old boy.No matter what else was going on, he could always eat. By the time Kirsten came back down, he had a pretty respectable breakfast in the works.She watched him as he moved around the kitchen, before leaning against the counter.“Please, I’m really trying here, and Seth told me you were just protecting him and I do appreciate that, but Seth never got into a fight before — is that bacon?”Kirsten had clearly been working up to their first major confrontation.In a way, Ryan had been hoping she would let loose, given how much she obviously kept locked down.Maybe he’d finally get to know the real Kirsten.It turned out, thought, that the real Kirsten was easily distracted by breakfast foods.“I can’t remember the last time we had bacon.”

 

“Found it in the back of the fridge.Mom’s not much of a cook, and when I was working construction I needed a big breakfast,” Ryan explained. 

 

Kirsten looked aghast.“You’re 15! What were you doing working a dangerous job like that?Who even allowed it?I’ll have them blackballed from here to the border by tomorrow night.”

 

Ryan found her innocence endearing.“The kinds of foremen hiring underage and under the table in Chino aren’t really working here.”He turned back to the stove.“I wasn’t sure if you preferred banana pancakes or plain, so I made both.”

 

Suitably distracted, Kirsten grabbed a plate and speared two banana pancakes.“Just so we’re clear, you don’t have to make breakfast in order to live here.You do have to learn that the rules you had before are probably not the same as the ones we have.This would have been so much easier if you’d gotten to know us a few years ago, like we’d expected,” she sighed, pouring a surprisingly healthy glob of maple syrup over her pancakes.Ryan had been intrigued by the little log cabin-shaped tin — “Product of Vermont!”— he’d found in the fridge.It was nothing like the Mrs. Butterworth’s he was used to.“We never imagined she just didn’t tell you.”

 

Ryan tried to compose his thoughts.“I think…. the more I think about it the more I think she was going to.She was really nervous for months before my birthday, asking me if I was happy, if I wished we had more money, stuff like that.But then, like six weeks before my birthday Dad was arrested for armed robbery and I thought she was being so weird because she knew he'd been planning another heist.But still, I feel like I should apologize to you for turning you down, even though I didn’t.Is that stupid?”

 

Kirsten rushed to assure him no apologies were necessary.“Dawn was so good about keeping in touch.We thought we knew you, and how your life was going.We knew your grades and your sports and how you broke your arm falling out of a tree.We had no idea it was a one way street.Seth even wrote to you sometimes, because he said he wanted you to know him like he knew you, although I’m sure you never got them.”Ryan shook his head and she sighed into her coffee.“Has Sandy told you about his father?He ran off when Sandy was a kid.Left his mom to raise him alone in a sketchy part of the Bronx on a social worker’s salary.Sandy swore he’d never do to his family what his father did to him.If he had any hint, not matter how minuscule, that by agreeing to Dawn and Frank’s terms you would have been unhappy, or lost, or alone the way Sandy had felt unhappy, lost and alone, we would have had you out of there in a heartbeat.We never in a million years imagined she would lie to us both.”She paused.Ryan uncharitablythought they had seen what was most convenient for them to see, but then he knew his opinion was probably biased.He’d always known his mother was a liar, even if he’s thought her lies were limited to things like “oh sorry I had to work late and couldn’t make your chorus recital” (passed out drunk on the sofa) or “he won’t hit you if you don’t provoke him” (the last few years with AJ.) Kirsten was still talking.“That’s why he fought so hard to establish paternity.He wanted to make sure you knew he wanted you; wanted to be your dad.”

 

“Didn’t he just do a blood test? He said he had to do a blood test and made it sound like that was it.”

 

Kirsten made a funny little face.“I wish.Dawn was married to Frank, so legally, he was the father.Court records and affidavits and and prison logs and ex parte hearings…It felt like years, just to get the right to even do the blood test and sign the birth certificate.When Sandy found out Dawn had just wiped all that away, he looked like he’d been stabbed.”

 

They were both silent for a while, Ryan staring out the window at the wide Pacific vista while Kirsten sipped her cooling coffee.Upstairs he could hear Seth moving around, the sound of water running as last night’s misadventures were washed down the drain.Something about that thought; about the whole conversation with Kirsten while the smells of bacon and banana filled the beautiful kitchen, had made him pause.He was sitting in a room he had only ever seen in movies and magazines, and as far as everyone around him was concerned, he _lived_ here.Sandy had custody. Back in that anonymous diner with the busted paper towel dispenser, on the day the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy had blown up Ryan Atwood’s life, he had given Sandy six months. And he wanted to; he wanted to get to know these people the way they had thought they knew him.But to do that, he needed to stop reacting.He had to find all the pieces dispersed in the explosion, put them back together into something new and strange and scary and maybe he couldn’t, but if he could identify the pieces, find the new shape into which they fit, he had to try.But he himself, Ryan Atwood, or maybe Ryan Cohen, was the most confusing piece of all, and he was mentally turning it over, trying to determine it shape and how it had changed, and what it might be growing into, when Seth staggered into the kitchen, cleaner but clearly still in some pain, and toward the coffee pot making happy little “gimme gimme” noises.Outside a car could be heard pulling up, presumably indicating Sandy was back. 

 

After everyone had been suitably fed and coffeed (Sandy - “This is amazing! Usually we just have bagels.”Ryan - “I’ve never had a bagel.”Sandy, Kirsten, and Seth - shocked gaping expressions, followed by a mad rush to the kitchen, Seth shouting “Not the sesame! the sesame is mine!”) and Ryan had been educated on the virtues and varieties of bagel (truth be told, he found them a bit chewy) and the kitchen had been cleaned up, Seth and Ryan had been about to start an epic FPS battle when Sandy asked Ryan to join him in his study.“Nothing big.Just some paperwork-type stuff.”This turned out to be code for the thickest set of school-related documents Ryan had ever seen.The Harbor School, where Seth went and they were planning for Ryan to go too, was some kind of pretend college-type school.There was a prospective students brochure that made it look more like a high end resort than a school, and Ryan needed to read and sign some stuff, and also write a personal statement as part of an application that was due in the next 10 days.This created a new emotional wobble, since Sandy had already transferred a lot of information over from Ryan’s old school records, and he’d filled out the paperwork as “Ryan Cohen (aka Ryan Atwood).”Seeing it written that way had made Ryan feel like some kind of criminal who needed an aka, and also brought the very thorny question of what his name actually was back to the forefront.He stuttered over how to sign, finally settling on just Ryan Atwood.Sandy didn’t say anything, but Ryan could feel Sandy watching the ink flow and felt like he was disappointing the older man.The personal statement was even harder.Sandy said it should be about why he wanted to pursue a Harbor education, but Ryan didn’t have an answer for that.According to Seth, a Harbor education mostly consisted of learning how to dodge water polo players and conduct empty conversation about trends in heel heights.Saying he wanted to go there because his newly discovered half-brother went there and openly loathed it seemed like a counterproductive strategy.Sandy’s suggestion they go to the campus the next day for inspiration gave Ryan the chance to punt.But then the conversation turned to a new cellphone, and his allowance, and his curfew, and what he could and could not ask Rosa to do, and a thousand other things about living with the Cohens that were completely foreign to Ryan’s experience and he started to feel like the walls were closing in.All he wanted to do was jump on his bike and run back to Chino, back to simulated wood grain paneling and stained carpet and public school and guys whose hands never got clean from the grease or oil or dirt they worked in, no matter how hard they scrubbed.He wanted a criminal father and brother and dear god, he wanted his mom.His alcoholic, lying mother who flew off the handle for no reason and had brought a violent thug into her home because she couldn’t bear to be alone and had nursed Ryan through the flu three separate times before he finished elementary school and knew all the words to every track on “Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J” and had bought a baking pan just so she could make box mix brownies for Ryan’s birthday the year after the other kids made fun of him when he brought in a box of Pepperidge Farm.He wanted his tragic, horrifically flawed mom, because at least then he would know what he had, and it wasn’t a cell phone and a nerdy comic-book loving brother and a step mom who loved banana pancakes and had probably never made box mix brownies in her life and a father who desperately wanted back some imaginary son he’d left behind 15 years ago.

 

“Sandy?Can I…. I mean…I need to talk to Mom.I need to ask her why.Can you take me to the jail?I just… I need to talk to her.”

 

Sandy frowned.“I asked her why when I saw her.She just said it was easier that way.”

 

“But maybe she’ll give me a better answer?”Ryan was aware he sounded desperate, but he didn’t care.“Please.”

 

Sandy sighed.“I was going to tell you this today anyway.I had arranged with a friend to represent her.Dawn’s only record was some petty shoplifting, so the country agreed to restitution and time served.She was released yesterday afternoon.”

 

“Then why hasn’t she called me?It’s been days — how could she just not get in touch?”Ryan was moving from desperation to panic.

 

“I don’t know.She told my friend not to tell me when she got out, but he did anyway this morning.I tried to call her and the number I have from the custody paperwork is disconnected.Does this look right?”He held out his phone and Ryan confirmed that was the correct number.“I called Mrs. Díaz, who said she saw Dawn yesterday but not today.So,” Sandy stood, held out his hand to Ryan.“What say you and I take a ride to Chino?”

 

Conversation in the car was minimal, with Ryan explaining the full story of why Seth was looking rather pleased with himself despite the bruising, and Sandy laughing at how Ryan had unknowingly picked a fight with the captain of the water polo team.Ryan got quieter as they crossed the border into San Bernadino County, growing noticeably more apprehensive as they reached his neighborhood.They parked out front, and Sandy turned to Ryan.“I’m going to wait out here.Your Mom and I…. we’re not each other’s favorite people right now.”Ryan nodded and using his key, let himself in. 

 

The house was empty.Flattened areas of carpet, noticeably cleaner from being under furniture, shown like beacons on the floor.There was debris all over and a note on the counter in red marker.He ran toward the back and all of the rooms were empty with the exception of a tub in his bedroom with some papers on top.Further investigation showed them to be his (extremely incomplete) medical and school records, his original and forged birth certificates, what appeared to be Dawn’s copy of the court order transferring custody to Sandy, and (wonder of wonders) envelopes in a shaky elementary school hand, addressed to “Ryan Cohen.” Seth’s letters, still sealed, and shoved in a battered folder.

 

He walked back into the front room and found Sandy reading the note.He handed it to the shocked, numb teen, eyes unfathomably sad.“You were right.She could give you a better answer.”

 

Ryan read the hastily scrawled note.“I don’t get it.She only had two kids.Why should she be so embarrassed that we had different fathers?Why was she so worried people would call her a tramp?”He slid down onto the floor, the stale smell of cigarettes and alcohol and canned ravioli, the smells he associated with home and family still saturating the air in the empty house. 

 

“She was young.She had no way of knowing she would only have two kids.”Sandy hypothesized, joining Ryan on the floor. 

 

Ryan gave Sandy an acid look.“You need to stop making excuses for her.”He paused, took a deep breath.“I was going to ask her, ask you, to let me come home.I mean, I want to visit with you and get to know you.I don’t want to go back to never seeing you, but I don’t fit in there. That place, those people….”

 

Sandy took his hand.“I know.I saw how freaked out you were about the Harbor application.”He paused.“Not that I blame you.Most of them are the definition of vapid narcissist.”

 

“Would you have said yes?I know I promised you six months, but you and Seth and Kirsten, you’re the only ones that I can even remotely talk to there.The rest of it is just… like Seth said when we got to the party, welcome to the dark side, you know?”

 

“I do.I tried to convince Kirsten to move when Seth was younger.But for better or worse, it’s home now.And no, my gut response is probably not.I let you go once.I’m not strong enough to do it twice.”

 

Ryan’s eyes stung.“I’m not that baby you saw once and let go, you know.I can’t be him,” he said, finally giving voice to what had been haunting him ever since the callous and uncaring California social services bureaucracy had blown up his life. “All this time you thought there was a kid out there named Ryan Cohen waiting for you, but the truth is he never existed, and I took the spot where he should have been.You can’t just magically turn me back into him now.Ryan Cohen fell out of a tree and broke his arm.Ryan Atwood was up that tree hiding from his father, who’d gotten drunk after losing at the track and come home to his younger son having just spilled milk on the carpet.”

 

Sandy froze, then exploded upward.He was standing with his back to Ryan, leaning into the wall with both hands as if he wanted to push it over, the crucifix on the wall over his head an indifferent witness to 15 years of betrayal all felt in a single moment.Ryan could read Sandy’s rage in the lines of his back and the way he was breathing, heavy and rhythmic like he was trying to get himself under control.He knew that anger.He felt that anger.Sometimes it seemed like he felt it every dayFor the first time, Ryan recognized Sandy in himself.He’d always thought he got that anger from his father, and it turned out he was right, because while they had joked that Sandy Cohen had a type, it turned out Dawn Atwood had a type too.Which meant Ryan knew when Sandy was about to break,and wasn’t surprised when the older man hauled back and punched the wall as hard as he could.The cheap paneling splintered easily, the crucifix falling onto the floor with the rest of the detritus that was all that was left of Ryan’s life in Chino.He stood, moved over, took Sandy’s hand and checked the fortunately minor damage. 

 

“I’m going to make this right,” Sandy said, anger now anguish. 

 

Ryan shook his head. “You can’t take that past away.And yeah, it sucked a lot of the time and wasn’t what you thought it was, but this is who I am now.There may come a time when I won’t be an Atwood anymore, but I’ll never be a Cohen.Not the way you think it means.”

 

Sandy put his hands on Ryan’s shoulders.“Just focus on being Ryan.We’ll figure out the rest as we go along.”

 

Ryan nodded, and then went stiff as Sandy pulled him in for a hug.After a moment while he mentally flailed and tried to figure out how to respond, he went with his heart and returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Sandy tentatively, and then for real.He might never be Ryan Cohen, but at least he knew now that Sandy Cohen would always be his dad.He squeezed his eyes shut and embraced both his father and the feeling that knowledge gave him.

 

Sandy detached first, keeping one hand on Ryan’s shoulder.“C’mon.Let’s go.”

 

Ryan nodded and collecting the tub and papers Dawn had left, walked out of the house.

 

(And then the drama really started.)


	2. Little story droplets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random bits of head canon that didn’t belong in this story but I had in mind while I was writing it. It’s honestly amazing how little would have changed.

Dawn doesn’t come back the first time. This is mostly because For Reasons I know way more about current California custody law than someone who’s never been party to a custody suite in the state of California ever should, which is why I know that if she had come back at that point, she would have gotten 50/50 residential. “The O.C.: The Shared Custody Logistics” would make for a really lousy episode. Instead, Sandy tracks down Dawn’s estranged father, who calls his daughter “a loose-kneed tramp who was just gonna slut around and have a bunch of kids with different fathers, like her good-for-nothing mother.” At which point Ryan punches him into the pool. Sandy does not punish him for this.

After three ducked meetings with Kirsten’s decorator, Ryan confesses he really likes the quiet of sleeping in the poolhouse, so they make it permanent.

Testifying at AJ’s indictment sends Ryan into an emotional tailspin and he goes to the model home just to get away from everyone. The rest you know.

The bit about the last name on the birth certificate? That was actually true at one time under California law. A friend’s husband, let’s call him Bob, had trouble getting his learner’s permit because his mother got all squirrelly and furtive when he asked for his birth certificate. She finally had to confess the truth when he found the dang thing himself and his last name… wasn’t his last name. Bob, however, was born in 1967, and current CA law is “use whatever name you want." I choose to believe it changed after Ryan was born. (Yes, I’m probably wrong. Don’t harsh my mellow.)

Caleb, while obviously deeply disapproving, is suspiciously quiet and non-judgmental on the subject of teenaged children born while the father is married elsewhere. This baffles everyone who knows him until Season 2.

Frank returns on schedule to apologize to Ryan for his role in perpetuating the lie and they eventually make peace. Ryan maintains a sibling relationship with Frank and Julie’s son.

In some future episode, Seth tells Ryan how lucky he was not growing up with all the Newport horsepuckey, at which point Ryan reminds Seth that he, Seth, gets to be secure in the knowledge that his parents were/are actually in love as opposed to a casual affair, and that also they’ve never once hit their child. Seth wisely shuts up. #firstworldproblems

The Cohens flatly refuse to alllow Ryan to move back to Chino when Teresa announces her pregnancy, and instead invite Teresa to move in. Teresa, who is really uncomfortable in Newport, fakes her miscarriage much earlier. Sandy’s very impressive freak out at the thought of being a grandfather before turning 40 is memed for the next 10 years.

Seth still takes off for Portland, despite Ryan not leaving. Maybe Summer broke up with him because his brother broke her BFF’s heart… I don’t know.

Ryan ends up keeping Atwood until halfway through college, when Dawn (who came back under identical circumstances as canon, safely after his 18th birthday) sits him down and convinces him that becoming an official Cohen is the right thing to do. He also does his bar mitzvah for real at some future date, because adult bar mitzvah parties are kind of awesome and I feel should be encouraged whenever possible.


	3. Two droplets I forgot to include with the others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like it says on the tin.

Mrs. Johnson the social worker is actually a hyper-competent, rockstar social worker who routinely goes to the mat for her cases, so much so that Sandy (who let's face it, knows them all by now) asked her specifically to be the one to handle the custody transfer. She's just not very warm and fuzzy because she's got almost 20 years on the job and knows better than to get overly involved emotionally, which Ryan interprets as being callous and uncaring. She is one of two characters I based on real people, in her case a CPS worker I knew in Washington, DC 25+ years ago when DC stood for Dodge City. You wouldn't want to get bad news from her, but heaven help you if you got between her and one of her kids. 

(The other real person is the cameo from an old landlord who, yes, once boasted to me about setting some guy's truck on fire. I moved as soon as possible.)

Dawn and Kirsten met exactly once for five minutes. Dawn called Kirsten a "spoiled little princess" and threw a cup of ice chips at her head. When Sandy tells this story, he will admit to Ryan that it was, in hindsight, unwise to bring Kirsten with him to the hospital when Dawn called to say she was in labor.

**Author's Note:**

> I recently felt the need to rewatch The OC for the first time in 10 years, which led to hitting up the IMDB to play "where are they now" which led to finding that tasty morsel on the trivia page which led to this. The thought of Sandy the Jewish Saint cheating made me go "wubba?wubba?" until I remembered the miscarriage that nearly destroyed the most stable marriage I personally know of in real life, which gave me what I needed to make this idea work. I've exorcised this particular demon now, so no sequels.


End file.
